An Unexpected Visit
by Fandomsforinfinity
Summary: Ten years before the strike, the Manhattan Newsboy's Lodging House has a visitor. Even more surprising, the visitor is a girl. Everything about her is unexpected: her arrival, her questions, and the people who follow her there. Shouting, pillow fights, and overall chaos ensue, until the lodging house has its final, most unpredicted guest: Joseph Pulitzer. Oneshot.


It was still dark outside when the door of the Manhattan Newsboys' Lodging house creaked open. Though it was earlier than most of the boys got up to head to the circulation gate, the hints of blue in the dark sky revealed that it was not the dead of the night. Surprising as it was for the door to be open in the early morning, the one who opened it was even more unexpected.

The girl who stood in the doorway clearly had no business being there. For one thing, her clothes were clean and they fit her-signs that she hadn't been living on the streets, and was rich enough to afford new clothes. She wore a light purple nightgown with plenty of frills and bows. The only shows of her being unkempt were her bangs, slightly tousled from her sleep. She was also, well, a she, which added to how out of place she was. Not that there weren't any girls who sold papers with the rest of the boys, or that a girl couldn't, but they were the Newsboy's Lodging House for a reason.

The girl hesitated in the doorway. Her eyes were round and wide. The air was as still as she was, and no breeze swayed her brunette curls. She barely took a breath. Fortunately, the girl didn't have to speak first.

"Hey, what'cha doing here?" demanded a boy's voice, defensive, but quiet enough not to wake the others. The girl flinched at the shock of the voice, clearly startled. But the shock was fleeting. She took a deep breath, gaining new confidence.

Smoothing her dress, she said, "Hello. I came here to learn more newspapers. I want to be a reporter, and-"

"Get lost. Intrudin' girls ain't welcome here."

She stopped abruptly. "That's not nice."

The boy sneered. "I ain't known for being nice." He was older than the girl, and that made her nervous, but she tried her hardest not to let it show. She grasped her skirt.

"What do you know?" she pried.

"More than you." The girl doubted this was true. She was taught by expensive tutors, and the boy probably hadn't had any sort of formal education. Educated boys didn't say "ain't", after all. Though years of tutors must have been lacking something, because she had come here to learn from the boys.

The girl sighed. "About the newspapers?" she clarified.

Another boy had woken up by this time, this one a bit younger than the girl. "We just sell 'em," he piped up.

Seeing an opportunity for an interview, the girl inquired, "What's it like?"

The new boy shrugged. "Okay, as long as the headline's good."

When she stepped closer to him, the girl realized that this boy had already been awake. He was squinting at her when she first stepped in the room, before quickly lying down again and closing his eyes. The girl wondered why she didn't notice this when he spoke the first time. Perhaps it was because she was too nervous to give him much thought when she first saw him, which kept her from immediately recognizing him.

Moving on, she asked, "What makes a good headline?"

Several of the boys were now awake, and added in their suggestions of good headlines.

"Earthquakes!"

"Robberies!"

"Corruption!"

"Wars!"

"Murder!"

The girl scoffed, "That's morbid."

"Quit speaking to her!" The first boy yelled. He didn't appreciate this girl walking in on them, and he didn't appreciate his boys acting like it was okay.

Now most everyone was awake. One of the boys lit a cigar.

"Aren't you a little young for that?" The girl questioned.

"Ain't you young for a reporter, 'specially a girl?" he retaliated. He pronounced "girl" like "goyle". Many of the boys did.

She moved to one of the other boys, asking him, "What do you like about being a newsboy?"

This boy did not seem interested. "Biker doesn't want us talking to you."

"Biker?" the girl exclaimed. "Who would name-?"

Just then, there was the sound of the door creaking open again. Standing in the doorway was another girl, this one younger, not more than six years old. Her nightgown was the palest pink.

"Edith! What are you doing here?" The first girl hissed.

"I followed Lucille," the younger one replied.

The first girl sighed, "She's here, too?"

Edith nodded. "Came to get you."

"You all need to go home before Father realizes we're gone. It's just you and Lucille?"

"Um…"

The door opened wider, revealing a girl who was older than the other two. "We're going," she ordered.

"No," the first girl stated. "I don't want to leave yet." The first girl was defiant and stubborn, which showed with her aversion to being bossed by her sister.

"She don't have'ta if she don't wanna," a boy said. It was the younger one, the first one she interviewed after Biker.

"I'm her older sister," the Lucille asserted to the boy, then turned to the girl and continued, "and if she doesn't come soon, Father's going to realize she's gone, and come after us all."

The door opened for the third time that morning. This time, it revealed a boy. He looked a bit older than Lucille, the oldest girl, but if his looks didn't show it, the way he carried himself did. "You're all going home," he demanded after closing the door.

"You don't get to boss us around, Ralph!" Lucille exclaimed, quickly changing her position. "I'm staying here with-"

"No, you can't!" The first girl yelled.

Lucille wasn't listening. She was trying to justify her staying by striking up conversation with some of the boys, though it was clear neither was very interested. Edith, the youngest, seemed very upset at being awake early in a place she didn't know full of boys she didn't know. She looked like she was about to cry. Ralph was practically tomato red with embarrassment and anger.

Then many events happened in a blur. Lucille had gotten one of the boys to talk to her. Ralph yelled at her to stop. Lucille shouted back. A boy threw a pillow. Maybe it was at Ralph, maybe not. It hit another boy. He threw a pillow back. Edith's eyes filled with tears. Biker shouted something. No one listened. More boys joined in. They tossed pillows at each other. They swung pillows. It was a game. Edith was crying. Lucille and Ralph were yelling. The boys were playing. Everything was loud. Edith cried. Lucille and Ralph yelled. The boys played. All of this was too much for the girl. In an attempt to silence everyone, she stood up on a table and cried for them all to stop.

Everyone did stop. No one looked at on the girl on the table, though, everyone looked past her. All eyes were on the door. It had opened again, and it stayed open, exposing a sky with more blue in it than it had before, and a final guest. Everyone knew who the last visitor was. Joseph Pulitzer.

...

Ten years after the mysterious girl visited the Manhattan Newsboys' Lodging House, few cared about or even remembered the events. Many who were there had now left the lodging house, including Biker, their old leader. Jack Kelly was now considered the leader, and he led the boys with pride. The boys who were there never found the girl's name. At least, not until they decided to strike against Pulitzer.

...

 **Author's Note: Hi! This is one of my first fanfic on here, and it's my first Newsies fanfic. It's kind of based off of a dream I had. Anyway, fun fact: Biker's nickname is Biker just because he owns a bicycle. The other boys think it's really cool that he owns a bicycle. It helps him get to the good selling spots faster. I hope you like this! Feel free to review!**


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